This is total speculation, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's done it in the past. Eraserhead took so long to make, it inevitably changed along the way, so the actors probably didn't know everything they were signing on for at the start. Of course, the majority of stuff he's done since then has gone through the conventional studio process, so there would at least have been a completed script for all to see. But it wouldn't surprise me if he'd pulled similar stuff on shorts he'd done over the year (The Cowboy and the Frenchman, Rabbits) and Inland Empire - or even smaller part actors on a lot of his stuff. There are plenty of stories of Lynch casting parts simply by having coffee with actors in a diner and getting a feel for them, just talking about cars and bullshit, and then offering them the part without so much as a scene reading. I don't think he does any of this is with the intention of being secretive for secretive's sake (or to create hype and mystery as you put it). He wants his audience to be kept in the dark until they can experience his creations in the manner he envisions, but it's a completely different thing with his actors - it's part of his process, and as a result he gets performances which are different than any other director would achieve.

Actors having scripts with only their lines and nothing else seems a bit too much for me. I would be pissed. But I agree that actors giving their best intuition is more of a method than a love for secrecy.

There have been a couple very heavy riffs on Kubrick in the last few episodes. There was the virtual homage to 2001 a couple episodes back and now we have the scene in the last episode where Richard violently robs his grandma's house while Johnny watches, bound and helpless -- an almost note for note reinterpretation ( regurgitation) of the Singing In The Rape scene from A Clockwork Orange.

Also, does anyone else see the strong influence of John From Cincinnati in Dougie Jones? They're uncannily similar.

Yep. One of the best. I can't express how damn fine Kyle MacLachlan is this season. The two Coops have to show no expression and he manages, without showing expression, to give a lot out of Dougie and Mister C. What we tend to forget is that Dougie is the Cooper we know. He's trying to get out. I'm not frustrated by the time it takes and, even if some scenes are repetitive, I was very happy to have twenty minutes of Dougie for this episode. The last scene was very moving.

It was as much trolling as it was a statement, right? Every scene of the episode was overlong; and then, it climaxed with the Audrey scene that is pure trolling, name dropping total unknowns as if we were not following the same show. Which is how that season works—and sometimes doesn't work. The show keeps repeating to us that life went on without us.

And even when things do happen it's as if the show kept insisting on the fact that we haven't been with the characters or in this world for two decades. Imagine being some kind of omniscient spirit going back to Twin Peaks. It would feel like that. That's why I like the scenes with complete strangers. (They're also very creepy.)

Between the scene with Audrey and Gordon and Albert who can't remember that they're not asking Diane or anyone about DOUGIE FUCKING JONES whose name was written on an alliance inside MAJOR FUCKING BRIGGS dead body, that episode was almost sadistic. I doubt it will resolve in some kind of big showdown in Twin Peaks. Everytime the season moved forward we got an episode like this one where people—known or unknown—are more concerned about the drame of their lives, a drama absolutely invisible to us.

Or sometimes what's important is to say to someone not to sell his blood.

You know, I'm grateful for Twin Peaks this summer. It holds the weeks together. This is an experiment and it fails as much as it succeeds. It is self indulgent. But it's always a thrill to start a new episode.

I'll be honest, that Ben Horne scene was really slow and long, and to no discernible effect.

That was the exception, though. The other elongated scenes worked for me. The very next scene, in fact, knocked my socks off — the one with Gordon's lady friend taking forever to leave. I thought it was ridiculously funny with a bounty of quirky delights. My favorite part is when she kisses her hand then can't decide where to touch Gordon's face. And it ends with that enigmatic exchange of looks between Gordon and Albert (a potency that was missing in Ben Horne's scene).

And I loved the rest of the episode.

Generally, I don't think Lynch's freedom is a problem, I think it's a blessing from the gods. It's a strange miracle of the universe that anyone ever paid for this to be produced.

I don't even always feel comfortable judging the new Twin Peaks, in the same way I wouldn't go to an art gallery and grade each piece. It's there for you to experience if you're into it.

Drenk, I love what you're saying, but I don't think it's fair to say it "fails as much as it succeeds." I guess it depends how you define success. If success means David Lynch realizing his vision, I think this completely succeeds. I don't expect anything else. The show has obliterated any and all other specific expectations at this point.

I don't see what's not to like. It took me a while to start watching because I read a few comments on how slow and cryptic the show is, but to be honest I've found it endlessly entertaining. I love the fact I can't possibly predict where it's going, which is a welcome change from the usual tv series approach where you can spend days picturing scenarios in your head. Straight narrative can be great but this is liberating.

Now I regret that I even doubted Lynch. When such weirdness is executed with this level of conviction it just puts me in a complete state of alert. There's nothing more gripping as a viewer.

Now. I loved this week episode. What the hell is happening with the Twin Peaks timeline?

I noticed that too - especially the scene with Bobby at the Double R, since we had that gunshot scene with him since the Briggs stuff happened. Weird. There was another bit later on too (with Nadine and Jacoby?)

Unrelated, this was probably the most laugh-out-loud episode yet.

It's quite interesting how lots of the couple we rooted for in the original series are no longer together (Shelly and Bobby, Norma and Ed). Time has passed, yes, but it also feels like there is a balance missing in the world. Everyone who is alone now seems to be suffering through some perpetual purgatory - think Sarah Palmer and her TV, Ed eating soup in the gas station - and it's those who are part of a pairing, who have that balance, who seem to be the ones who are most awake to the world - think Margaret and her log, James and his enduring love for Laura/Donna/Maddy, arguably even Nadine and her obsession with "Dr. Amp". That's probably not the best way of explaining it, but there's a clear pattern that among the older characters especially, those who are nearest to death without some sense of balance in their lives are the ones who seem least alive. That's true of life, of course, but whether the intention is simply to reflect that here or else to mean something by it, it's strikingly, hauntingly, beautiful just the same.